
To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time gather stones together;
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose;
A time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
On this third Sunday in Lent, as the world seems to be bent on self-destruction, we who claim the name of Jesus Christ can rest in the promise Jesus spoke before going to the Cross:
These things I have spoken unto you,
that in Me ye might have peace.
In the world ye shall have tribulation:
but be of good cheer;
I have overcome the world.
John 16:33








Hymn of Promise
In the bulb, there is a flower. In the seed, an apple tree.
In cocoons a hidden promise, butterflies will soon be free.
In the cold and snow of winter there’s a spring that waits to be.
Unrevealed until it’s season. Something God alone can see.
There’s a song in every silence seeking word and melody.
There’s a dawn in every darkness bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the future. What it holds, a mystery.
Unrevealed until it’s season. Something God alone can see.
In our end is our beginning. In our time, infinity.
In our doubt, there is believing. In our life, eternity.
In our death, a resurrection. At the last, a victory.
Unrevealed until it’s season. Something God alone can see.























